


fever dreams

by ikknowplaces



Series: the Quiet Isle [2]
Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin
Genre: Caretaking, F/M, Forgiveness, Hurt/Comfort, Light Angst, Post-Canon, post-adwd
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-05
Updated: 2019-10-05
Packaged: 2020-11-24 12:29:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,725
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20907683
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ikknowplaces/pseuds/ikknowplaces
Summary: Brienne wakes up for the first time in the Quiet Isle with Jaime by her side.





	fever dreams

**Author's Note:**

> it seems i'm not done with the two of them in the quiet isle, so here's another scene i wanted to write. on another note, i'm getting the hang of writing book!braime, so send me prompts maybe? here? or on my tumblr? i'll do my best to write them!
> 
> also, the previous work in this little series has gotten much more attention and love than i expected it to get, so thank you for every person who read, gave kudos or commented. you guys are really encouraging me to write more, and that's a wonderful thing to receive, so thank you so much
> 
> the title is taken from cruel summer by taylor swift

The world is red. It has been since the fight with the Brotherhood in the forest, when they knocked her to the ground, kicked the side of her body, slammed their fists into her face before Oathkeeper bit through layers of mail and boiled leather.

She was already been weak and feverish, from the inn of the crossroads. Her left forearm was broken, her cheek torn apart by rotting teeth. The noose they had tied around her neck still burnt when she had come to Jaime's pavilion in Pennytree and asked him to come with her, to save Lady Sansa.

That was the worst part, lying to him. He had vouched for her honor, protected her from Loras Tyrell, provided her anything for her quest and gifted her precious Oathkeeper. Jaime had trusted her with his honor and she repaid him with lies.

Driving Oathkeeper into her Lady was almost as bad. Lady Catelyn had once been so handsome and strong, so gentle and understanding. She was already grieving for her dead sons and lost daughters, but the Frey's slashed her throat, the crows cut her face, and she rose more mad with grief and vengeance than ever. Justice for her King son, the Brothers called it.

And now she is shivering somewhere, on something soft and long that reaches to her feet. Her hands are closed around something thick- fur? Another bear? Drops of sweat roll from her forehead, down her cheeks and shoulders. There is an ache inside of her, inside all of her. It's all she can feel. Her head hurts the most, her stomach and wrist as well. A moan escapes her lips.

A hand slips to her arm, the one that isn't broken. "Brienne," a voice says by her side. _His_ voice. "Brienne, wake up."

Her eyes flutter open. She is inside a chamber, warm and dry. The ceiling is brown and made of wood. Some whiteness peaks between the worn-out logs. There's no sound besides the fire in the hearth and the one inside her.

Her eyes drift aside to meet gold and green. Jaime is sitting by her side of the featherbed. He moves his hand and presses his knuckles to her forehead, before drawing it away. "Gods, you're burning."

_I called out to him._ She would have blushed, if there was any strength left in her. Not for the first time too, based on what one of the Brothers told her.

Jaime gets up from the bed. "I'll get the Brothers."

The real Brothers, she remembers. They laid her in one of the ladies' cabins and washed off her wounds with boiling wine. Even her cheek is covered with a stale paste and a bandage.

"No," she says. Her Septa would have slapped her hand for being so ungrateful. They accepted her in their Isle again, sheltered her, gave her food and healed her wounds, but... "I don't, I don't want..."

Her flesh feels afire. Her eyes are too heavy to be opened for too long and her chest aches so much she wants to cry out. Jaime nods, but he leaves anyway, with a bucket in his hand.

There's a glimpse of the world outside as he slides out of the door. _Snow._ A gust of wind enters the chamber when Jaime does, cursing at the cold. She can feel it in her bones.

As he returns with the bucket full of snow, she tries to push herself on her elbows and groans, her muscles stinging in pain. Jaime drops the bucket by the bed and moves his right hand, his stump under her arm, helping her settle against the hard pillow.

He reaches out to take a rag from the table and buries it in the snow, which has begun to melt. He brings it to her forehead, still damp with sweat, and she savors the coldness.

"Better?" He asks. She nods, her eyes closed as he dubs the cloth on her cheek. _My good_ _cheek_. His thumb brushes the other and the dressing over it.

She peels the fur blanket off and there's a deep ache on the side of her body. Jaime looks away as she pulls up the two layers of linen and wool to reveal a long cut, moving with the curve of her stomach. It has been sewn well, but red and ugly. The skin above it is blue and swelling. Her ribs seem to shatter again as she breathes.

_I am broken_, she thinks and the tears threaten to fill her eyes. _I am broken, and soon I'll be dead._

Jaime lifts his gaze to her, something pitying in his eyes. His hair has grown since the last time she saw him, golden curls almost falling on his face, and his beard as grown as well, eclipsing his cheeks, but other than that, he seems fine.

His clothes are no longer white, she realizes. He wears a crimson leather jerkin now, beneath a grey fur cloak and black breeches. He must have changed his white cloak and silver armor to not be mistaken for snow, and so a Brother of a Kingsguard would not be seen marching around the forests Riverrun with someone like her.

He gathers some snow on top of the cloth and closes a fist around the edge. He presses it to her blue marks first, then on the cut as well. She remembers a time, not so long ago, when she bathed and dressed him, and urged him to eat and live when he would not.

"I'm sorry I lied to you," she says.

"You did what you had to do to survive," he puts the cloth away and pushes her tunic back down. "It saved the boy and that man Hunt as well."

"They're alive?" The memory of Podrick swinging from the tree comes back to her, his legs kicking without end, the noose tightening around his neck. Hyle was bruised and broken when they brought him, shouting he would kill Jaime himself. She chose the sword for the two of them more than for herself.

"Yes, the Brothers took care of them."

_He has never been so gallant_. Not only he forgave her after she betrayed his trust, but he also made sure she would be tended, and her companions as well, who are strangers to him. She wants to cry at his feet and thank him, or kiss him. Her tongue caresses her dry lips as she thinks of what it would be like, to feel his lips on hers, to cup his face and feel his hand on her.

Another thought comes to her. Oathkeeper. She begged for it in her dreams, begged for it from the Brotherhood. Lady Catelyn's face floods her, the way her voice came out crooked when she called it False Friend. The burning world has made her forget it, but only for a moment.

"Where's your sword?"

Jaime's narrowing eyes go to her, then to his sword strapped on his waist as he taps on its hilt with his open palm. For the first time, he seems angry at her.

"_Your_ sword is there," he gestures forward to the side of the bed, where Oathkeeper is laid against the wall, red scabbard and the golden lion pommel. Heat spreads across her face as she realizes the mistake she has done._ I called it his_. "Are you hungry?" He asks.

She has been ignoring the rumbling at the pit of her stomach since she woke up, obscured by the pain. She doesn't remember eating. She doesn't remember waking up at all. "Yes."

He brings a wooden bowl from the table near the hearth, and places it in his lap, looking at her. For a heartbeat, she thinks he might feed her, but he puts it gently in her hands.

The soup is plain, hot water with pieces of onion, but it warms her sore fingers through the bowl and her stomach when she drinks it. Jaime watches her as she eats, ready for the bowl to drop or for her to double up in pain. Neither happens.

"I want to go outside," she says when she's done and drags herself towards the edge of the bed. Beneath the tunic, her forearm is wrapped tightly with rags. Her wrist hurts as it scrapes against the bed.

"Are you mad? It's freezing." He protests, but helps her to her feet. She winces when they touch the floor.

"Just the door then," Jaime gives her his arm to lean into and she remembers the night she smuggled him from Rivverun's cells. He was drunk on the wine Lady Catelyn gave him, stumbling on the stone steps as they climbed outside.

She reaches for the knob, but he opens it before her. The whiteness nearly blinds her at first, and the wind is cold as ice daggers like he said. She hugs herself, then Jaime clicks his tongue and shrugs off his cloak.

He drapes it over her shoulders and at once, she feels warmer. The fur tickles her neck, the ends of the cloak hover around her ankles and she clutches the middle to shelter her chest.

Snow falls outside, light as a summer breeze. A thick layer covers the ground and the naked trees. She can see only a few other cabins, meant for the unwed ladies. Their roofs are covered with snow as well, and no smoke comes out from their chimneys. The rest of the cabins should be under the hill, with the Brothers in them.

Her Lady is out there somewhere, hiding in some ruins from the snow or being chased by outlaws. Brienne wonders if Sansa has gone to sleep with a full stomach, if she has a fire to keep her dry and a roof under her head. The thought of failing Lady Catelyn, of failing Jaime... No pain could ever match it.

She turns to him. "We must find Lady Sansa."

Jaime looks at her, his green eyes hard. She waits for him to tell her Sansa can already be dead, or that only fools who wish for the Stranger's kiss would try to find her, or that she betrayed him and he doesn't care about her and the Stark girl anymore.

"We will," he answers instead, and stares at the white world.

**Author's Note:**

> thank you!
> 
> i'm on [tumblr](https://ikknowplaces.tumblr.com)


End file.
